It starts so slowly. A dangerous little rumble in the tummy. A gradual tightening of the intestines.
Blood immediately rushes to my cheeks and I start looking for the nearest bathroom, mentally trying to calculate exactly how long I have before there’s going to be a very messy accident.
Welcome to the world of Irritable Bowel Syndrome. An embarrassing, unstable, hideous world where every food item has the potential to cause major distress. A world full of unexplained bloating and stomach pains and very unpleasant bowel movements.
It all started at the beginning of last year, with a stroke of extreme bad luck. I got the kind of parasite that’s so rare that my doctor had to pull out a textbook to try and remember what it was, and how to treat it. The Department of Health investigated me and asked me things like, “what kind of pools have you swum in for the last year?”
My answer: “Uh… wet, blue ones?”
The parasite cleared out the good bacteria from my gut and made it a very unhappy place. Following that, my doctor misdiagnosed me with another ailment and put me on some unnecessary antibiotics that absolutely ruined me.
Another diagnosis was made, and it was IBS. Which is essentially an umbrella term for all the gut-related mishaps that can’t really be explained and can’t really be healed unless you find something that really, really works for you.
So far, I’ve tried:
– Going lactose-free. (This made no difference, although I did become addicted to lactose-free Parmesan.)